


Bitter

by aello_np



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Mild Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-09 02:23:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20845976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aello_np/pseuds/aello_np
Summary: One careless question from Gil Grissom in the aftermath makes Greg act strange. Complaints ensue, leaving Gil with some very unhappy team members. Will he come up with a solution to the problem?





	Bitter

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at an English CSI fanfiction, and it's not betaed (by someone else except me, that is...), so please bear with me. The characters belong to someone else, I just borrow them to entertain and am not making money with this (what a pity). I hope you enjoy reading it, as much as I enjoyed writing it...

Greg hummed appreciatively, as he writhed naked on the bed, pushing his aching cock deeper into his lover’s willing mouth with every thrust of his hip. Gil was resting beside him, equally naked and aroused, his throbbing cock rubbing and leaking against his thigh as he sucked him expertly, fingers gently massaging his tight balls. Narrow beams fell through the half-closed blinds, the rising sun bathing his lover in a soft pinkish glow.

He let his hands run through the older man’s greying hair, still marvelling at the fact that they actually did this - making love on Gil Grissom’s bed. It wasn't just sex they had. Of course, they did have sex, too. Open-mouthed-kissing-teeth-clashing-impatiently-ripping-at-clothes- sending-buttons-flying-half-naked-grinding-against-each-other-just-behind-the-closed-door kind of sex. To satisfy that aching need that gnawed at both of them the whole shift at times. 

And then there was this. Foreplay. Slowly undressing each other. Laying down on the bed. Soft music in the background. Taking their time. 

It started about half a year ago when he had finally plucked up his courage to confront his supervisor about his snide comments and driven up to Grissom’s place. At first, Grissom had denied everything, accusing him of taking things way too personal. Shouting ensued. Then one thing led to another and they had ended up making out against the kitchen counter. 

He felt himself slip from the warmth of Gil’s talented mouth and whimpered. “Oh, please don’t stop,” he begged.

Gil chuckled against his skin, then gently grazed his teeth over Greg’s bony hip, his fingers never ceasing to fondle Greg’s balls. “My, my, are we needy?” He winked and traced the tip of a finger along Greg’s thigh. 

“You tell me!” Greg huffed. “You can’t start like this and leave me high and dry-” he started to complain, but Gil’s fingers, probing between his thighs, cut him off.

“Oh, I can’t?” Gil asked, arching a brow and slightly tilting his head, his expression clearly saying he could, and - damn the bastard - he would, while his curious finger explored the tender flesh around Greg’s puckered opening. “Really?”

Greg wasn’t sure whether he loved or loathed it when Gil was like this. Teasing him, tantalising, totally unaffected by his own, very obvious arousal. He frowned and slid his hand from his lover’s head towards his crotch. His cock needed friction and hell, if he couldn’t get it from Gil, he’d give it himself.

“Hush,” Gil chastised playfully and shook his head. “No playing with yourself without permission in my bed.” There was a warning edge to his voice, very subtle, but vibrated through his chest and belly, and his cock twitched in excitement. Amusement shone in Gil’s eyes and Greg bit back a groan. He liked it way too much when the other man got bossy on him in bed. Or on the sofa. Or under the shower. Or at any other occasion, they were out of the lab and had sex or made love.

“Please,” he moaned. His insides tingled with arousal and sheer need and he was only a couple of breaths away from coming. 

“Please what?” Gil’s voice was honey, soft and sweet and viscous, as it tickled into his ears. And by his smug expression, he knew exactly what he was doing to Greg. All calm and masterful. And he seemed to enjoy himself thoroughly.

“Suck me, please,” Greg begged. He didn’t mind begging, or asking for permission. Not _ here_ at least. He didn’t like it so much in the lab, though, when Grissom was being a real jerk. Only to keep their cover, of course, as his supervisor claimed, though in Greg’s opinion Grissom seemed to enjoy himself way too much while doing so. But here and now, like this, when they were both naked and release was just within reach, Gil would fuck him into oblivion and back. If he asked for it. And he knew he’d ask for it.

“Hm, such a good boy,” Gil murmured against his thigh and it sent shivers down Greg’s spine. He couldn’t tell what was more arousing, the hot waft of breath over his skin or the softly whispered praise. “If you’re asking so nicely, it’d be rude if I did not comply.” Without further ado, his boss and lover dropped his head again, taking Greg’s length into his mouth and sucked hard. Groaning, Greg bucked up into the welcoming hot mouth and came.

He was still breathing heavily, lying there with closed eyes when the mattress shifted. 

“Spread ‘em, lab boy!” Gil’s hands brushed against the insides of his thighs, and obediently Greg shifted on the bed, only too willingly spreading his legs. Coming down his lover’s throat had been good, but the best was yet to come. The mattress shifted and dipped as Gil slid between his thighs, the tip of his leaking erection bouncing against the insides of his thighs. 

“How much prep do you want?” 

Now it was Greg’s turn to smirk. Was it that easy? How was it possible that Gil always seemed to know exactly what he wanted, no, _ needed _ \- and always was only too willing to provide it? He blinked open his eyes. “None,” he whispered and touched his lover’s chest. 

“You sure?” The older man held his gaze and once more Greg almost lost himself in those intense pools of blue. Ever the sceptic. Worrying that he might hurt him. Greg thought it was utterly sweet and endearing. Not that he’d ever share that thought with anyone from the lab who was convinced of the opposite. 

He nodded, letting the tips of his fingers roam over Gil’s broad chest. “Yeah.”

He watched his lover quickly slick himself generously with lube. 

“I thought no playing with yourself,” he pouted.

Gil laughed. “Would you rather I fucked you dry?”

“I’d rather you fucked me instead of-” He was cut off by the tip of Gil’s cock penetrating the tight pucker, the hard length smoothly sliding into his unprepared opening. Greg threw back his head into the pillow, gritting his teeth. Sharp pain tore into his lower body as his lover eased into him, slowly, inch by inch. He dug his fingers into Gil’s sides, knowing he’d leave marks. No one would see them, but he’d know they were there, under his clothes, hidden from anyone’s eyes. 

“Look at you,” Gil moaned low. “So needy for my cock, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Greg admitted. The initial pain was part of it, and he knew it would fade and give way to exquisite pleasure. His lover was experienced enough and caring, to make it pleasant for him, taking it ever so slow in the beginning to give Greg’s body time to adjust to the intrusion. 

“Do you like fucking me like this?” he asked breathlessly, already knowing the answer. He looked up at Gil.

“Yes,” the other man nodded, slowly moving his hips and pulling out of him almost completely. “I love it when you’re so tight and tense when I slide into you.” To underline his words he rolled his hips, slowly sliding his cock into Greg’s tight opening again. “And then you relax and let me in. All the way.”

Greg moaned softly and slid his hand around Gil’s neck. “I love it, too,” he whispered, pulling the other man in for a gentle kiss. “I love you and I love it when you make me take it.”

“Do you?”

“Oh, yes.” It was so easy to admit it, to open up and making himself vulnerable.

Warm breath tickled his neck, as his lover bit his lobe. “Tell me, how do you want it, lab boy? Slow and easy or hard and fast?”

Greg didn’t have to think long. “Slow and easy first, and then,” he drew a deep breath, “hard and fast, please.”

“Hm, good choice,” his lover mumbled appreciatively and continued sliding into him with slow measured thrusts and Greg knew it wouldn’t take long.

Ten minutes and another mind-blowing orgasm later, Greg snuggled up against Gil’s chest, the other man’s arm around his shoulders. He was sleepy and utterly satisfied. Everything felt warm and fuzzy and he sighed happily. He loved post-coital cuddling, it made his tight-lipped lover unusually chatty. At times. 

“Greg,” Gil suddenly asked, his fingertips gently dancing over Greg’s shoulder.

“Hm?”, Greg gave back, without moving or blinking open his eyes.

“How much coffee exactly did you have during this shift?”

Greg shrugged his shoulders. “One or two.”

“Cups?”

“Litres,” he gave back. “Why?”

There was a short pause, then Gil shrugged. “Just asking.”

Greg didn’t think much of it, he was still too blissed out. It was a weird question, but then, lots of things Grissom had done and said, were weird. That was part of the charm, he told himself. 

“Let’s go to sleep,” Gil suggested. Greg agreed and a couple of minutes later he was fast asleep.

It was a couple of days later when Greg had a very sudden, very unpleasant epiphany. It had been a busy night, but they had ordered some food, veggie pizza for Sara, fat dripping burgers for Nick and Warrick, salad for Catherine and Gil and sizzling hot Indian for him. Sara had made a comment about hot food and only later, when he was in his solitary lab and ran some tests, he suddenly clicked in. His brain made the connection and he’d realised what Gil’s question after sex actually had been about. Was it possible that he drank too much coffee and ate way too much hot food? 

He grabbed a piece of paper, and headed over to Gil’s office, pretending to be on official business. 

The door was slightly ajar, but Gil was reading some papers. He knocked. “Hey,” he softly said. “Do you have a minute?”

Gil looked up and took off his glasses. “Sure, what can I do for you?” He seemed to be in a benevolent mood. Instead of pretending to be busy with some obscure stuff, he gave him one of those brilliant, tiny smiles, that turned Greg’s insides into a puddle of goo, and pointed to the chairs in front of his desk. “Have a seat.”

Greg closed the door and sat down. “Can I ask you a question?”

Gil smirked. “Was that the question?”

“Pardon?”

Gil sat down the glasses in front of him on the table, his features serious. “What do you want to know?”

Greg hesitated. He wasn’t sure how to phrase his question. “Do you think I drink too much coffee?”

Gil frowned and shrugged his shoulders. “Why do you ask?”

“It’s because what you said a couple of days ago.”

Gil’s brow arched up and he shook his head. “I think I said a couple of things a couple of nights ago. Could you please be a little bit more specific, Greg?”

Greg felt his cheeks turn pink. “You were asking me, how much coffee I had.”

“Ah,” Gil nodded knowingly.

“Why did you ask?”

The other man frowned and tapped his fingers on the desk. 

“Do you think,” Greg started, then paused to look for the right words. “That I… that my…”

Gil sighed.

“Do you think I’m gross?” Greg suddenly blurted out.

“No I don’t think so,” Gil said. “You were tasting a little bitter, that’s all.”

Greg wasn’t sure what to make of it. Gil had never before made any comment about the taste of his semen. Had he been grossed out without ever saying a word and swallowing anyway?

“Greg, it’s normal that semen doesn’t taste the same all the time,” Gil explained patiently. “Sometimes it’s more,” he made a short pause, “tangy than other times. It’s perfectly normal.”

Greg frowned.

“I love sucking your cock and I don’t mind a bit bitter.”

But Greg wasn’t so sure about it. 

“Let’s have this discussion another time, Greg, okay? We should focus on the task at hand now.” With that Gil reached for his glasses, slipped them on and turned towards his reading again.

Obediently, but not fully satisfied with the answer, Greg left his bosses and lover’s office and headed back to his lab, deciding to do make a dietary change. But first he had to do some serious research on the net.

**A fortnight later**

A huge frown on his forehead, Gil sat at his desk in his office. His chin rested on his hands from which his glasses were dangling. With a sigh, he sat down the glasses and rubbed the back of his nose. 

He pondered the reasons why the complaints against Greg had been brought forward. He’d been quite surprised when Nick, Sara and Catherine had confronted him. But then he’d finally connected the dots. He himself was the reason. One careless question in the aftermath of mindblowing sex. And another honest answer a couple of days after that. He shook his head and slowly got up. It was useless to scold himself, he thought. 

He headed over to the lab. Greg was busy with something and Gil caught himself, staring at his younger lover admiringly. It had always been obvious that Greg loved what he was doing. But tonight he looked a bit ruffled. Tired. Gil shook his head. No wonder, but why hadn’t he noticed earlier? After all, he not only was the younger man’s supervisor, but also his secret lover. The past two weeks had been busy, but he really should have made the time, he told himself. 

He knocked on the door frame. Greg startled and dropped the pipette he was holding. Fortunately, it was not made of glass.

“Gee, you startled me,” Greg hissed. He sounded a little off.

“Can I have a word with you?” Gil asked in kind.

“Hm?” Greg made as he picked up his tool from the floor without actually taking the time to look at his visitor. 

Gil frowned, he wasn’t used this degree of ignorance from the younger man. “Just a minute,” he added.

“Sure,” Greg mumbled and absentmindedly made a gesture with his hand. “Shoot.”

“In my office,” Gil said. He wasn’t sure if Greg intended to annoy him intentionally, or if he actually was just being busy and didn’t realise what he did.

“Okay,” Greg gave back and continued his work.

“Greg?”

Greg looked up and over to him. “Hm?” His eyes looked bleary, unfocused. Typical sign for lack of sleep. 

“My office. Now.” Gil said sharp, and pointed over to his office. 

Greg frowned, as realisation seemed to sink in. He sighed, then he sat down the pipette and rolled his eyes. “Alright,” he grumbled and headed out of his lab, towards where his lover’s hand pointed.

Gil shook his head. He really needed to set Greg straight (read: _gaily forward_), before he messed up one of the cases he was working on. It didn’t help matters much that he couldn’t rid himself of the impression his younger lover had avoided him the last two weeks. They had been busy, very much so. But they’d rarely had a moment alone. He could only blame himself, he thought, he hadn’t really made much of an effort to actively try to make the time, busy with way too many cases and a thousand administrative tasks. Maybe it was time they took a couple of days off to get back in touch. Literally.

“Please, have a seat,” he offered back at his office, and closed the door. Being Greg’s lover and superior didn’t exactly make things easier. Greg slouched down on the chair and Gil winced at the sight. Just watching made his spine ache. He sat down and carefully eyed the other man. 

“So,” Greg said. “What you wanted to talk about?”

Gil regarded him for a moment, then he drew a deep breath. “Greg, there have been a couple of complaints about your behaviour yesterday. I just didn’t manage to confront you before today.” He’d intended to talk to the younger man, but one call had distracted him and only when he’d fallen into bed alone, he remembered that he hadn’t done as he’d promised.

Greg’s eyes widened and he straightened in his chair. “Complaints? About me?” He shook his head. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“I kid you not,” Gil promised. “Do you have an idea what the complaints could be about?”

Greg looked at him, dumbfounded. “No,” he gave back, shaking his head. “I have no clue. Who complained about me?” 

**The night before**

The shift hadn’t actually started yet, when Gil walked into the building. Nick fell into step with him all of a sudden from out of nowhere, but before he was able to wonder what this was about, Nick addressed him. “Hey, Griss, do you have a minute?”

“Sure Nicky, what’s up?” He was in a good mood. 

“Man, the fridge is a total mess,” Nick complained. 

“Why?” Gil asked, without slowing down. “What’s in the fridge?” 

A couple of weeks ago, Catherine had gently let him know that certain things did not belong in the fridge that was supposed to hold food. When he hadn’t instantly clued in, she’d been more direct, so he felt compelled to try reducing the amount of possibly offending material. At the moment his conscience was clear - he kept all his research samples in the fridge in his own office.

“Disgusting! It’s disgusting, man!”

Gil stopped and drew a deep breath. “If you don’t like what’s in the fridge, then why don’t you clear it out?” he suggested with a gesture of his hand. Sometimes the simple solutions were the best.

Nick stopped too, and put a fist in his side. “Whoa, I didn’t make the mess in the fridge, man, I ain’t cleaning it out.”

Gil shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s Greg’s stuff.”

Before Gil was able to respond, his cell rang. He shrugged his shoulders at Nick, and took the call. 

*****

The shift had been busy from the moment he’d entered the building, but Gil was quite pleased with how things proceeded. It was the middle of the night, the crime scenes had been investigated, evidence had been collected and was being processed. He’d decided to take a quick break and grab a coffee. 

Something smelled different he thought when he entered the break room, but before he was able to figure, what exactly it was, Sara entered the room.

She looked sour. “Ah, there you are.”

He decided to ignore her bad mood, and gave her a smile. “Just getting a coffee,” he said, reaching for the pot in the machine. “Want some?”

“No, I wanted to talk to you.”

He slowly poured himself half a mug, sniffing at the coffee. It was the coffee, he realised, the coffee smelled different. Less flavourful.

“About what?”

She frowned and seemed to hesitate. “Could we talk in your office?”

Gil was sure, it wasn’t about the case, but he didn’t want to ignore it. He nodded and they headed over to his office. 

He waited until she was seated. “So, what do you want to talk about?”

“Greg.”

Gil arched a brow and sat down the mug on his desk. “What’s with Greg?”

“He’s creeping me out,” Sara claimed.

“Greg? What did he do to creep you out?”

Sara drew a deep breath. “I think he’s trying to hit on me.”

Gil had serious doubts about that. “How did you come to that conclusion, Sara?” he asked, trying to push away images of Greg and himself, naked on the bed, making sweet and gentle love in the early morning light. He could almost feel himself slide into the tight heat of Greg’s ass and the tips of Greg’s fingers gripping him so hard, he’d leave marks. With a cough he pushed aside these thoughts and memories.

“He’s been trying to ask me out for a date, Griss. Constantly. Well, for the last two weeks. And he won’t take no for an answer. I told him to cut it, but he keeps doing it again and again. And I have no idea what to do to make him stop.”

It was strange to imagine, Gil thought. “Do you want me to talk to him?”

Sara nodded and gave him a small, thankful smile. “Thanks, Griss.”

Absorbed in thoughts, he watched her leave.

*

At the end of the shift Gil had showered, packed his stuff and was about to head home. Despite the feeling that Greg had been avoiding him the last couple of days and missing their together-time, he’d decided not to push things. If Greg wanted to talk to him, he’d call or drop by. 

He was just about to leave his office when Catherine showed up. She had showered and put on fresh clothes and he could smell her perfume. It looked like she had plans. “Can I have a word with you?”

Gil wasn’t sure what she wanted to talk about, but if she’d waited until the end of the shift to confront him, it might take some time. He made an inviting gesture towards his desk and sat down again. She followed him, closed the door and had a seat.

“So, what do you want to talk about?”

“More like who I want to talk about,” she gave back.

Grissom frowned. “What’s up?”

Sighing she leaned back and tucked a strand of long blond hair behind her ear. “Greg,” she said and it was obvious how hard she tried to keep calm. “Greg’s up.”

“What did he do?” Gil wanted to know and straightened in his chair. He couldn’t imagine what kind of problems Catherine could be having with Greg. 

“It’s about what he didn’t do,” Catherine explained, pointing a slender finger at him. “The last couple of days I’ve had to constantly remind him of tasks I asked him to do. He couldn’t get one analysis done without me dropping by in the lab and reminding him at least half a dozen times.” She angrily shook her head. “I can’t tell if he’s simply badly organised or ignoring my instructions.”

“Wait,” Gil said, trying to figure out what she actually tried to tell. “You think he’s-”

“I get the impression that he isn’t respecting my authority.”

“Because you had to go check for the results?”

Catherine looked anything but amused. “He was brushing me off, ignoring orders from a supervisor. That’s bordering on insubordination. I don’t think I deserve that kind of shit from him.”

Gil sighed. “I’ll talk to him.”

***

Greg looked befuddled, as Gil finished summarizing the conversations he’d had the night before.

“You’re fucking kidding me, right?” 

Gil smirked. “No, honestly. Sara told me you were trying to hit on her. Obviously you’ve constantly tried to date her.” 

Greg’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “You don’t believe her, Griss, right? Because I really, really didn’t try to date her!” He didn’t dare think about the repercussions of Sara’s accusations. Not to mention what Gil might be thinking.

“Greg, relax,” Gil said and held up a hand. “I’m just trying to figure out what happened.”

Greg frowned. “I didn’t try to date her.” He practically spit out the word. He did like Sara, but the thought of dating her was absurd. Not because she wasn’t likeable, but because he considered himself taken already.

“Okay, you didn’t try to date her. What did you do then?” Gil wanted to know.

“I was just asking if she wanted to go for lunch with me. I mean, she’s a vegetarian and there’s this new vegetarian restaurant just a few minutes down the street. Nick and Warrick don’t do salad. And it would be way too obvious if we both went there. So I thought it would be nice, if someone went along and I asked her,” Greg explained hurriedly. “I really never meant to creep her out or date her. I’m kinda happy with what I got.” He blushed as he caught the older man’s amused expression. 

Gil found it difficult not to laugh out loud. Sometimes Greg was just too sweet to be true. Especially now, when he tried so hard to convince him that he had not tried to flirt with someone else. 

“Good,” he smiled at his lover. “I do believe you. But you have to be aware that despite your intentions people may sometimes read your behaviour as something else.”

Greg sighed and nodded.

“What about the mess in the fridge?” Gil questioned further.

“I’ve put some fruit in there.”

Gil’s brow arched. “Fruit?” 

Greg’s cheeks flushed. “Yeah, fruit,” he said, trying to sound guileless, held Gil’s inquiring gaze. 

“Why did you put fruit in the fridge?”

“Because they are healthy?” Greg said slowly, but it didn’t exactly sound convincing. Gil regarded him for a moment, then decided it didn’t really matter at the moment. There were other ways to make Greg talk. 

“Alright, what about Catherine?”

“I do respect her,” Greg hurried to assure him.

Gil arched one brow. It was obvious that there was more to it. The flush on Greg’s cheeks intensified and he cast down his eyes. Interesting, Gil thought and relaxed in his chair. “There’s more to it, isn’t there?”

The other man’s adam’s apple bobbed. “No, why?” 

Gil smiled. It was an open secret that Greg had been shamelessly flirting with Catherine. Images flared up in his mind. Greg kneeling at the end of the bed, between her naked legs, dangling over his shoulders. He pushed aside the image, he shouldn’t think about Catherine like that, he told himself. And he shouldn’t get aroused by the thought. He slowly shifted on the chair. 

“Just asking,” he gave back. If there was more to it, as he suspected, this was not the right time nor the place to discuss the matter.

Greg frowned, then relaxed a little. “Oh, okay.”

Gil watched his lover closely. “You look tired,” he stated.

“Yeah, I am tired.” To underline his words, the younger man yawned. “Fortunately the shift’s over soon.”

Gil smiled. “Go back to work.”

“Okay, boss.”

Greg got up, gave him a small smile and headed towards the door. Reaching for the handle, he stopped dead in his tracks and turned around. “Do you think I should apologise to Catherine and Sara?”

“Yes, and I think you should clean out the fridge, lab boy,” Gil said softly. Fourteen mornings he went to bed alone after a long shift were enough. 

Greg swallowed, and blushed and Gil felt himself slowly hardening. 

“I, I’ll go see, if I can find Sara and Catherine to, um, apologise,” Greg croaked, then hurriedly left his office.

Gil found it difficult to focus, but somehow managed to will away his erection and finish all the papers by the end of the shift. 

*

Greg smiled as he found Gil leaning against his car just outside the building. 

“I’ve apologised to Sara and Catherine,” he told the other man eagerly.

“Good,” Gil nodded and pushed himself off his car. “Have you cleaned the fridge?”

Greg nodded. 

“Very good,” Gil arched a brow and smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and Greg felt a flutter in his stomach. “Would you like to go for breakfast or would you like to grab some and have it... later?” 

He didn’t spell it out, but Greg knew exactly what Gil was hinting at. “Yes,” the young CSI breathed.

“Get in the car,” Gil instructed as he pushed himself off the car and opened the front passenger's door for him. Without hesitation, Greg climbed into the car. The drive to Denny’s went by in a blur and Gil’s hand, casually resting on his knee, distracted and aroused him. By the time they arrived, he was fully hard.

“Don’t you want to come along?” Gil asked, when he didn’t make a move to unfasten the seat-belt.

“I can’t,” he admitted with flushed cheeks.

Gil laughed and put his arm on Greg’s headrest, his fingertips brushing against Greg’s neck. “What do you want, Greggo?”

“You know what I want.” 

“Of course I do,” Gil gave back softly. “I want it, too. What do you want for breakfast?”

Right now he didn’t care much about food. He didn’t want to think about menus, he wanted to get out of his clothes and feel Gil’s hands on his naked skin. Pushing him onto the bed and telling him what to do and what not to do. 

“Do you want me to pick for you?”

“Yes.”

“I can do that.” Gil’s fingers curled warm against Greg’s neck, then they were gone and Gil left the car. Half an hour later they arrived at Gil’s place. 

*

Impatiently Greg pushed him against the front door, before he even managed to fully close it. The younger man dropped the bag with their breakfast to the ground, pressing up against him. 

“Need you,” Greg mumbled against his neck.

“Right here, against the door?” Gil chuckled and reached for his lover’s chin. “I want you on the bed, Greg, I want to take my time.” He leaned in and gently bit his lobe. He couldn’t deny though, that the thought of sinking himself into Greg’s tight ass right here against the door, aroused him. 

“Oh, okay.”

“Greg?” Gil’s voice was soft and gentle. “What about the fruit in the fridge?” He asked, half expecting Greg to come up with some lame excuse. 

“I’ve read that pineapple makes your semen sweeter,” Greg told him, his ears slowly turning pink. 

“Just how many pineapples did you keep in the fridge?”

“Um, maybe… two or three?”

“You kept three pineapples in the fridge?” Gil asked. 

“Maybe it were four or five…” Greg replied a little evasively and winced under Gil’s gaze. 

Gil frowned. He had suspected that Greg had been up to something, but this was different. He hadn’t taken into consideration just how thorough Greg could be if he set his mind on something. 

“Pick up the food and put it on the kitchen counter,” Gil instructed and with awe watched Greg do just that. He wasn’t quite sure what excited him more - the prospect that he was going to have sex with Greg or the fact that the younger CSI only too willingly obeyed his orders when they weren’t in the lab.

“Good boy,” he praised when Greg placed the bag with the two boxes on the counter and eyed him expectantly from under heavy lids. He gave Greg’s shoulder a pat and slowly slid his hand down along Greg’s front towards his crotch. “Hmm, is that for me?” he asked, firmly squeezing Greg’s erection through the pants. 

With a low moan, Greg arched into his touch. “Yes,” he whispered.

“Let’s go to bed,” Gil suggested hoarsely and continued to caress Greg.

“I want you inside me, Gil,” Greg demanded and reached for his shoulder.

“Oh, you’ll have me,” Gil promised and pulled Greg along with him towards the bedroom. “But you know, boy,” he added, “my bed, my rules.” 

He wasn’t sure what made him address Greg as boy, because he certainly didn’t consider Greg an inferior. He’d made a couple of avoidable mistakes on the first day out in the field. But he was still so damn young and quite the fast learner. It was a game, but he was only able to play because Greg was playing along, he realised. He’d never pushed too far or made Greg do something he the other man wouldn’t have done anyway.

“I know, boss,” Greg breathed. 

“Damn,” Gil groaned and caught his lover’s lips in a passionate kiss, while he pushed Greg’s jacket off his shoulders. “You’re hot when you’re like that.”

“When I’m like what?” Greg asked with an innocent gaze and started to unbutton Gil’s shirt. “Sweet and innocent and ever so compliant, boss?” 

Greg knew exactly what he was doing, Gil realised, and that made it even better. Heat was pooling low in his groin. “Oh yes.”

A sly smile tugged at the corners of Greg’s mouth, only for the briefest of moments, then it was gone and Greg looked at him with big, innocent eyes. He unbuttoned the shirt and placed his palms against Gil’s naked chest. “Please, I’m so hard and I want you to fuck me. I’ve been a very good boy.”

Gil felt the shirt slide down along his arms and Greg’s hands at the waistband of his trousers. He was just as aroused as his lover, and there still were a couple of things they hadn’t discussed yet. Greg’s hand, pulling down the zipper and sliding under the waistband of his briefs, though, almost interrupted that train of thought.

He grabbed Greg’s wrist. He was painfully hard already, and considering the absence of Greg in his bed the last fourteen nights, he’d probably come way too fast. “My bed, my rules, I said.”

Greg smirked like the cat that got the cream. “We’re not in bed,” he stated.

Gil arched a brow and with a gentle push shoved Greg onto the bed, then let himself fall half on top of him. “We are now”, he claimed self-satisfied. “Again: my bed, my rules. And now, my dear boy, undress.” He slowly rolled from Greg’s frame and watched Greg slowly sit up. He shed his clothes in record time and then flopped down on the bed next to Gil again. 

“Do you like seeing me like this?” Greg asked, sliding his hand over his chest, down to his belly button. 

“You know I do,” Gil admitted and moved closer. He let his eyes roam over Greg’s body, lying just half an arm’s length away, naked and flushed and aroused and all his to take. Heat coiled low in his belly.

“Why aren’t you naked yet?” Greg asked so by the way while he was toying with the waistband of Gil’s briefs.

“You’re interested in having me naked?” Gil asked, pretending to be surprised at such a wish.

“Very much so.” Greg leaned in and placed a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Please, undress for me. Need to feel your skin.”

He felt his cock twitch at Greg’s words and only too willingly he obliged, quickly stripping away the offending clothes. He liked the way Greg’s eyes wandered down along his body, lingering when they passed his middle. 

“Fuck me,” Greg demanded, sliding his hand around Gil’s neck and kissing him passionately. 

Gil fell into the kiss and let himself be pulled into Greg’s arms. 

“Later, “ he promised. “For now I’ve other plans.” Before Greg was able to utter protest, he’d placed one hand on Greg’s hip, pinning him down on the bed. He wrapped his other hand around Greg’s engorged shaft and licked over the tip. Sometimes deeds said more than words, he decided. 

Greg moaned and shifted on the bed. “That’s your plan?”

“Do you mind?”

“No,” Greg gave back softly and gently brushed a hand over his lover’s hair. “Not at all.”

“Good.” Gil bent down his head. He flicked his tongue over the slick purple head, tasting precum. It did taste a little sweeter than Greg did taste usually. 

“Hm, sweet,” he murmured and Greg petted his hair.

“You’re just saying so to humour me,” Greg said accusingly and frowned at him. 

Gil held his lover’s gaze: “Have I ever lied to you?”

Greg shook his head. “No.” His expression softened.

Gil gave him a smile, then bent his head again, letting Greg’s cock slide into his mouth. 

Greg hummed appreciatively, as he worked him with lips and tongue. “You get off this, don’t you?”

He hummed around Greg’s cock instead of a reply. It was true, he did get off of this. He enjoyed sucking Greg as foreplay, and then fuck him ever so slowly - or hard, depending on what they both needed - and making him come again. And he loved it, even more, when Greg was talking to him like he did now. It went straight to his cock. Greg shifted, brushing a thigh against Gil’s lower body and he moaned. He realised how close he was and intensified his sucking.

“Obviously I’m not the only one who enjoys himself,” Greg mumbled and did it again. His thigh brushed against Gil’s leaking cock, providing enough friction to send him over the edge.

Greg shuddered under him, the grip of fingers tightening in his hair, as he moaned his name. His own cock still throbbing, spurting jets of hot come between his belly and Greg’s thigh, Gil swallowed Greg’s seed until his lover’s softened member slipped from his mouth.

“Need you in me,” Greg murmured and pulled at his shoulders, “please, Gil.”

“Hm, I think that can be arranged,” Gil mumbled breathlessly against the soft skin of Greg’s hip and brushed his fingers over the wet spot on Greg’s thigh, slicking his fingers with his own come. He shifted and nudged his knee between his lover’s thigh, then slid his fingers into Greg’s tight opening. 

Greg let out a soft, appreciative moan. “Hmm, yes.”

He chuckled as Gil pressed his slick, flaccid cock against his hip. “I can’t believe you came from sucking me,” he murmured against Gil’s ear, his fingertips caressing Gil’s neck, as he slowly rocked against Gil’s hand. It didn’t sound smug or daunting, but much to Gil’s surprise, pleased. His heart was still pounding hard and fast and he tried to calm down his ragged breathing. 

“It’s your own fault,” he gave back, good-naturedly, and continued to slide his fingers in and out of Greg. He shifted and looked at his younger lover. “Greg?” 

“Hm?”, Greg gave back without even opening his eyes.

“Don’t do that again, okay?” Gil chided softly and a frown appeared on Greg’s forehead, but he didn’t reply. He knew what Gil was referring to. “I think I owe you an apology.”

Greg blinked open his lids and green eyes stared at him in wonder. “Really?”

Gil leaned in and caught Greg’s lips in a gentle kiss.

“I shouldn’t have made such a careless comment about the taste of your semen,” he started, drawing a chuckle from his lover. “That was insensitive of me.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Gil Grissom?” Greg grinned at him that type of grin that used to drive him up the wall months ago. Before they started getting intimate. It was fascinating how achieving orgasm together changed your perception.

“I am trying to apologise, Greg,” he said, scissoring his fingers, “don’t spoil the mood.”

Greg leaned closer and caught his lips in a sensual kiss. Gil willingly parted his lips, letting himself be kissed. For several minutes they lay together, trading slow, sensual kisses, Gil’s finger gently sliding into Greg’s unresisting body. Then Greg’s stomach growled and the younger man squirmed away under him with a giggle.

“What's so funny?" Gil demanded to know. 

"It tickles," Greg explained with an apologetic expression.

Gil arched a brow and Greg's expression softened. "Wet spot," he explained and actually blushed.

"We should get rid of it then." 

"We should," Greg agreed, but didn't make a move to get up. 

Gil smirked and gently slapped Greg's buttocks.

Greg replied with a lewd smirk. "Hmm, I missed that."

"Really?"

Greg leaned against him, placing the softest of kisses on his lips, then slowly slid out of his lover's embrace and climbed out of bed. He walked over to the adjoining bathroom with a sway of the hip that world have made Frank N. Furter blush with envy. 

Gil loved watching him. Not with the type of scientific curiosity he used to watch beetles and bugs crawl over the sterile cold of his desk, scuttling stoically over all kinds of obstacles or trying to flee in blind panic. That was just observing. 

But Greg, watching Greg was different. He was marvelling at the beauty and the display of muscles under the tanned skin, knowing how it felt to run his hands over the long slender thighs. And that tiny spot on the hollows of the knees where Greg was so incredibly ticklish. Though the bugs had more legs, they weren't half as arousing as Greg was. He’d never been sexually aroused by watching bugs or beetles. Or wanted to fondle them. Also, the bugs probably weren't aware they were being watched. And Greg was only too aware of what he was doing, Gil mused. 

"Join me in the shower?" echoed Greg's voice from the bathroom.

Gil slowly got up and sauntered over to the other room. Greg was in the shower stall already, doors ajar, facing the wall and showing off his nicely shaped butt.

"You just want me to scrub your back," accused Gil.

"Amongst other things," Greg replied with a lascivious look back over his shoulder. "And because you're really, really good at it, you know?"

"I'm pleased to hear that."

"Why are you still standing there?"

Gil arched a brow. "I'm just admiring the view." He wouldn’t be ready for another round for at least half an hour. There was no need to rush things now. 

"You could express your admiration by stepping closer and putting those gorgeous hands of yours to a useful task, boss," Greg invited with a cheeky grin. 

Gil smirked and indicated a bow. "I am but your humble servant." He'd intended to joke, but the moment the words tumbled from bis lips he realised the truth behind them. It was Greg who was calling the shots. Who let himself be bossed around at his own terms. 

"Servant, huh?" Greg chuckled and switched on the water. The water was hot, and steam started to fill the room.

Gil quickly stepped into the stall, moving up behind Greg and warm water slushed down over him. He let the tips of his fingers dance down along Greg’s arms, already slick with water and rubbed his cheek against his young lover’s neck. “Humble servant, I said.”

“Hm, did you?” 

“I did,” Gil said and moved closer against Greg, knowing well how counterproductive it was regarding his task to wash off semen and sweat. Giving himself support, Gil propped his arms against the wet tiles next to Greg's shoulders, while more warm water flowed over his own neck and shoulders. Greg leaned back into him, wriggling a firm butt against his crotch and Gil started nuzzling his neck.

"Nice," Greg softly hissed his approval. 

Gil switched off the water and reached for the bar of unscented soap. 

“Soap me up?” 

“If you keep still, I may just do that.”

Greg chuckled and smirked at him over his shoulder. “A challenge?”

Gil chuckled back. “I suppose you’re going to find out.”

Laughing Greg propped his arms against the wet tiles and invitingly wriggled his butt. “Humble away, servant!” Greg intoned, then cleared his throat. “I mean, fire away, humble servant!”

Gil smirked and slapped Greg’s buttock. “At your service, _ master _.”

Greg squirmed. “Hm, I like that.” 

“What? Me being at your service or this?” He gave Greg’s buttock cheek another light slap.

“I’ll think about it while you soap me up,” Greg gave back and Gil started soaping him up.

A few minutes later, Gil stepped out of the shower stall. He quickly towelled off and wrapped the towel around his hips. Then he offered Greg, who was about to step out of the shower, a soft, thick bathrobe and helped him, slipping into it. His wet hair was sticking to bis head. Gil thought it looked not just unfamiliar but made his lover look incredibly well behaved. In his opinion it just didn't fit. Without really thinking about it, he ruffled Greg's hair, giving it its usual unruly look. 

Greg gave him a puzzled gaze. 

"I like it better that way," Gil explained softly and with a cheeky grin Greg reached for a towel.

"Really? Huh, I always thought you disapproved of my style." He towelled dry his hair.

Gil considered it for a moment. Tilting his head he arched a brow at his lover. "I always thought you were into surfing, scuba diving, models and liquid latex."

"Yeah, I still kinda am," Greg admitted, lowering the towel, grinning at him and then placed a chaste kiss on Gil's lips. "But I found out there are other things I am much more into."

“Really? For example?”

Greg chuckled under his breath, a low guttural sound. “You?” He arched a brow and gave Gil a heated look. 

With a smile, Gil took the towel from him, and hung it up to dry. “I’m pleased to hear that,” he said and winked. “Breakfast?”

Greg nodded and gave him a happy smile. “Sounds like a plan!” He didn’t even bother to close the bathrobe, as he hurried out of the bathroom. Amused, Gil followed him over to the kitchen. Greg was already standing in front of the kitchen cabinet and got out two plates.

“What did you get?” He asked, as he sat down two plates next to the boxes from Denny’s.

“Hash browns, sausages, bacon, scrambled eggs,” Gil counted off, pointing at one styrofoam container and gesturing towards the other box, he added: "Pancakes with an extra portion maple syrup." He pulled open a drawer to get cutlery. 

Greg smacked his lips. “Hm, you know how to please me,” he made a pause and gave him a wicked smile, then added, “my humble _ servant _.”

Gil chuckled and they loaded their plates with lukewarm breakfast dishes and started to dig in. Amused Gil watched his younger lover make a show of nipping from the strips of bacon and sausages he ate with his fingers. 

“Would you like a drink?” Gil asked between bites of scrambled eggs. Greg opened his mouth, then shut it again. He frowned, then seemed to consider. “Milk?”

Gil slowly wiped his fingers over his lips, his eyes never leaving Greg’s face and with a delicate gesture placed the fork on his plate.

“Greg?” He framed Greg’s long face with his hands. 

“Hm?” The other man watched him with big eyes. 

“Will you promise me something?”

Greg held his gaze, his expression as serious as Gil’s. “Yes,” he said without hesitation. “What?”

“Don’t ever again abstain from coffee or give it up for lent, okay?”

Greg’s expression softened. “But-”

Gil cut him off with a passionate kiss, already guessing what explanation Greg most likely was about to give. The younger man's lips were greasy and he tasted of potatoes and smoky bacon. “Greg, I love you and I’d still want to suck you if you ejaculated coffee and Tobasco sauce,” he claimed. 

“I can deal with a bit bitter because of your coffee abuse, just like I can deal with all those weird bands I never heard of, or cared to know about, blasting from your bad player at the lab with a deafening volume every night. You know, I can even deal with Nicky complaining about you leaving a mess in the fridge. Or the mess itself you left in the fridge. I can deal with the poor quality brew when someone else makes coffee that’s not our favourite brand. And, tough as it is, I can deal with the fact that I can’t show how much I care when we’re in the lab.” He did, it wasn’t just hollow words, Gil realised. He wasn’t just accustomed to the other man because he’d gotten used to the pleasure of regular intercourse with him. He loved him and was in love with him. 

He drew a deep breath, then continued before Greg had the chance to object. 

“But I can’t ever, you hear, never again deal with Catherine accusing you of insubordination or Sara panicking because she thinks you’re trying to ask her out for a date.”

Greg’s face had turned pink and Gil kissed him again. 

“And all just because you skip coffee for two weeks, after I made a silly comment. I’m sorry Greg.”

“I, I don’t know what to say?” Greg stuttered with a stunned expression. The other man’s passionate proclamation took him by surprise. 

Gil smirked. “What about _ “I forgive you, you may kiss me _now.”?” he suggested playfully and arched a brow.

Greg’s features softened. He’d never really given it a thought, to be in charge in bed, but he wouldn’t mind try something new. Especially if Gil handed it to him on a silver platter like this.

He cleared his throat, cast down his eyes and looked at Gil from under long lashes. “I forgive you, you may kiss me now.” He made a pause, then with a smirk added: “My most humble servant.” 

Gil laughed and pressed his lips against Greg’s in a soft, chaste kiss. With one hand tugging at the towel around his lover’s hips, Greg pulled him closer. “A real kiss,” he demanded breathless. 

Gil’s brow arched up and the corners of his mouth twitched, and for a moment Greg thought he’d object, but the other man placed a warm palm against his cheek. He leaned in and caught Greg’s lips in a passionate kiss. 

“That better?”

Eyes still closed, Greg hummed appreciatively. “Hmm.”

“Greg?” Gil asked and let his hand slowly travel along Greg’s neck and chest. There was still something he wanted to find out. Greg’s eyes fluttered open and gave his lover a puzzled gaze. Gil let his hand slide over Greg’s hip and cupped his buttock in a firm squeeze. “Why did you blush when we talked about Catherine back in my office?”

“I didn’t blush,” Greg said, his cheeks and ears flushing, as he tried to avoid Gil’s gaze.

With a swift motion, Gil pushed the soft cloth of the bathrobe over his lover’s hip, baring his well-rounded buttocks. It was a pity Greg had to wear trousers and that long lab coat in the lab. 

“Oh, I think you did,” he retorted and gently slapped Greg’s naked butt. With delight he watched Greg flinch.

“I, I… no, I didn’t,” Greg stammered.

Gil laughed and slapped Greg’s backside again. Greg twitched and Gil leaned in, nipping at his lover’s ear. “You did, don’t lie to me, lab boy.”

“I, I don’t know why I was blushing,” Greg mumbled, giving himself support on the counter. 

Gil delivered another slap on Greg’s ass. “Really?” He was convinced Greg knew exactly why but didn’t want to share that thought. 

Greg struggled. “I, I know why I blushed, but I can’t tell you...” Now, if that wasn’t a challenge, Gil thought. 

Smoothing his palm over Greg’s buttock cheek, Gil chuckled. “Oh, I think I have a pretty good guess, my dear,” he whispered against Greg’s neck. 

Greg bit his lips.

“It’s not a secret that you had a pretty huge crush her,” Gil murmured, not stopping to caress the other man’s rear.

“I tried to flirt with her, but she brushed me off,” Greg confessed. 

“Oh, did she?”

Greg snorted. “You know very well that she did.”

Gil slid his fingers into the crease between the two firm globes of Greg’s butt. “I know,” he whispered. “What if she hadn’t?”

“What... what do you mean?”

“Imagine she’d responded to your flirting.” Gil’s fingers probed deeper and he felt Greg shiver. 

“Oh,” Greg moaned softly. “You mean, what if... she’d actually... accepted my invitation... for dinner?” 

“Hm, yes.”

Greg raised a hand and half turned. Gil expected cast down eyes but caught the other man smirking at him instead. Greg’s hand slid around his neck and pulled him in. “You want to know what happened if she’d hooked up with me?” Greg whispered against Gil’s ear.

Now it was Gil’s turn to shiver in anticipation. Lust was coiling low in his belly and he was already half-hard again. “Yes...” He couldn’t help being turned on by the images flashing through his mind.

Greg smirked and feeling slightly confused Gil leaned back.

“Babe, if Catherine really hooked up with me,” Greg started and played with the short curls in Gil’s neck, “we wouldn’t be here, with you rubbing your already half-hard, wonderful cock against my thigh. I’d be bonking her senseless and you’d most likely be wanking off so hard you’d suffer from chronic tenosynovitis.”

“Probably,” Gil admitted. It was a very likely scenario.

“Good for you and your poor wrists, she’s really not into fucking young dudes,” Greg whispered and moved his hand from Gil’s neck to his hip, tugging at the towel. “Why don’t we go back to bed and you can show me just how humble a servant you are?”

He chuckled and Gil groaned. This didn't exactly go as he'd intended. He felt the towel slide from his lips and for a moment something dark flickered in Greg's eyes. Gil swallowed around the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. Greg was no Lady Heather, he thought and blinked. But then, "_ Master Greg _" didn't sound so bad either... 

** _Finis_ **


End file.
